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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689773">Fleeting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tachi_Sakon/pseuds/Tachi_Sakon'>Tachi_Sakon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Despair, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Growing Old, Hummingbirds, M/M, Reincarnation, Sorrow, no happy ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:06:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tachi_Sakon/pseuds/Tachi_Sakon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>fleet·ing</p><p>/ˈflēdiNG/</p><p> </p><p>adjective</p><p>1. lasting for a very short time. </p><p> </p><p>The moment was fleeting, the heartache was forever and beyond.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fleeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellfire123456/gifts">hellfire123456</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In my family we believe that the people that we lost  come back to earth in the form of hummingbirds that watch over us so every time we see a hummingbird around our home and bird feeders we’ll be “oh my god I think that great grandma” or “no that’s aunt”  </p><p>Anyway, the idea is that those people never left us and are always with us, watching over us until we join them one day and reunite as hummingbirds. So I decided to turn this belief into a fic prompt.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em>“You may now kiss the groom.”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">Sakusa Kiyoomi is no more. His eyes sparkle with all the emotion in the moment as he and Atsumu stare at each other with large smiles, hands in hands. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">Atsumu fingers the silver band around Kiyoomi’s ring finger and then kisses the metal before doing the same to his own. When he looks back up at Kiyoomi, he is pleased to see tears in his eyes as his own gloss over. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">“Miya,” Kiyoomi says in a hoarse whisper. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">Atsumu nods. “Miya Kiyoomi.” </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">They glance to the isles and flash their families and friends watery smiles before turning back to each other. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">“You heard him,” Kiyoomi sniffles, “kiss me.”</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">Atsumu laughs and pulls Kiyoomi closer by the hands, into his chest. “As you wish, Kiyoomi.” </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">When their lips meet sparks fly and the crowds cheer, the sounds of happiness ringing for miles. <br/>
<br/>
</span> </em>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2"> <br/>
The two Miya’s have a happy marriage. There are little problems between them, and when there are, they always come back together. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Kiyoomi was happy until one time their luck ran out and Atsumu didn’t come back to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">That was the day Kiyoomi became Sakusa again after twenty years of being Omi. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2"> <br/>
Sakusa loses Atsumu in the twentieth year of their marriage. It happened so suddenly that just like that, he was gone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2"><em>A mistake,</em> they had said to him. <em>It was just simple mistake. There was nothing we could have done.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s3">Drowning inside yourself is a simple mistake, huh.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He didn’t even have time to blink. He didn’t have time to say good bye before he would never get to see him again. Just like that twenty years of commitment and love, familiarity and happiness faded into seventy long years of sadness and sorrow. Sakusa Kiyoomi, once Miya, is no longer hopeful. He is in his nineties and tired of his life, of the constant loneliness that he lives in. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“There’s only so much one can wait,” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He misses Atsumu, even if he barely remembers him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“I wonder how he’s doing,” Kiyoomi, hair no longer dark and wavy, now white and frizzy, “that Atsumu. Probably making jokes and playing volleyball up there.” He expects that his husband hasn’t changed much from what his muddled mind remembers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He’s gone for seventy years without the love of his life, and he laughs at how youth complains about a week. Seven decades, he has lived without his significant other, his soulmate. And here, his nieces and nephews will call him to complain about how they can’t go a day without their wives and husbands.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Yet, he is always reminded that he was once that youth. Kiyoomi once missed Atsumu so, once counted every second until the moment he came home from work, once loved and waited. He still does. Only now, he counts the seconds until he can join him again. The very things he looks at now and calls foolish, he once did with all the love in his heart. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Has he forgotten me,” Kiyoomi mutters. It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, “since, it’s been so long..” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He doesn’t want to think about that, so he closes off his heart for a moment.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Kiyoomi spends the rest of his darkened life sitting on the mossy marble bench in the overgrown garden, counting the jasmine blooming among the rotting fencing. He hasn’t taken care of the garden since Atsumu died. He hasn’t pulled a single weed, watered a single plant or trimmed a single tree. And he wouldn’t. The garden was something that only Atsumu could keep alive as the sun. The garden and himself. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Without Atsumu, there was no point. They are rotting away, slowly and painfully.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The garden would die with him. He hasn’t let it yet, for it was the only thing that kept his mind grounded; but soon, he will.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Perhaps he’s happier, wherever he is.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Kiyoomi harbors no ill will, no hatred anymore, there is no point. There is no point in living anymore either. All he can do is wait for his time to run out.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Despite his hurt, Kiyoomi does not want to feel anger in his last moments. He does not want to feel pain on his deathbed. Kiyoomi yearns with his ailing heart that he will be able to let all his heartache go and leave his loneliness behind him with all his memories of Atsumu and to be free of mind once again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“That’s a long way off,” Kiyoomi chortles, his shaking hands gripping his cane. He looks up around him with fading eyes and smiles. He knows that he’ll never forever Atsumu, that there’s no point in hoping. “Atsumu wouldn’t let me anyway.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4"><span class="s2">He can almost hear his husband’s voice yell, “</span> <em> <span class="s3">Darn right, I won’t let you!</span> </em> <span class="s2">” as young as it was at the time he’d lost him. Their wish of growing old together may never come true in the physical world, but Atsumu’s presence was always with Kiyoomi, even if it was slight. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“The persistent bastard still haunts me,”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The elderly man heaves a sigh and slowly clambers to his feet. He can’t stand being around the garden any more today, it’s too much. If he stays around any longer, old wounds will open even faster. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Im done,” he whispers, “I’ve had enough. Im going inside.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He stands and turns around, walking away from the shadowed area. As he is making his way down the mossy stone path, cane clapping against the hard surface and shoes clicking, Kiyoomi halts when a soft buzzing sounds by his ears. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“What?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">His head suddenly whirls and his heart is lifting, beating again as if it had a purpose after seventy years of refusing to keep him lifted.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“What?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">His eyes are darting, desperate to pin point the blur that he couldn’t make out. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Hey,” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Finally, the buzzing stops and his eyes land on the Princess Tree. Atsumu’s favorite Princess Tree.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">His face feels decades lighter and his lips curve upwards for the first time in years as Kiyoomi sees the blur.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Ah,” escapes cracked lips.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">There sitting up in the old camellia tree in front of him was a tiny golden hummingbird, head tilted and wings tucked at its sides. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The bird is too similar to him for it to be a coincidence. Kiyoomi lets his cane drop from his hands and to the ground with a clang and slowly steps closer and closer to the tree, to the bird. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t believe it,” he breathes, years of suppressed emotion clogging his throat, “A-Atsumu, is that you?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He doesn’t know when his eyes have begun to water, but tears have begun to slip down his cheeks. Moments pass and Kiyoomi lets out a sob as the bird nods. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Atsumu..” he repeats, the emotions falling out all at once. “Atsumu, my love, <em>Atsumu</em>!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The bird nods again, and all of a sudden it looks as if it too is crying; it’s small eyes glistening. Kiyoomi loses all reason and staggers towards the tree, arms outstretched, flailing miserably as he tries his hardest to get to his husband. Kiyoomi is shaking but he doesn’t care. He is tripping over his feet, but he doesn’t care. His tears are blotting his vision, but he doesn’t care. All he cares is seeing his husband again, even if it is for a brief moment. Even if it is an illusion. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Atsumu,” he cries, “Atsumu!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He repeats his husband’s name over and over as if that would somehow bring him closer, back to life- </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em> <span class="s2">Back to him. </span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2"><em>This isn’t fair</em>, Kiyoomi’s mind cries. This isn’t fair, for the world to taunt him this way when he lived for so long without his sun, alone in the dark. The world kept taking and never giving. Kiyoomi was stripped of his everything and left with the growing nothing. He is tired, his heart is broken, his mind wants to be at ease. Yet it can’t. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">His fingers strain towards the little bird just out of his reach. He’s so close. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Atsumu, it <em>can’t</em> be.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He’s almost there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Just one more inch—“ </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">His fingertips brush the petals of a flower. Sakusa lets out a shaky breath and raises his eyes, tears eroding a creek along his cheeks and eyes swollen and red. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“I’m almost there.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The bird chirps and Kiyoomi thinks that it nods at him. By now, he is almost certain that it understands him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“Please stay still,” Sakusa whispers, “<em>please</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He can’t bear the thought of letting the one chance he has to see Atsumu again, even if he is a bird, again.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Life, however, decides that it must go on. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Kiyoomi’s heart stops when he realizes. “No,” he starts, eyes widening and legs straining to support him, “no, wait..” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He can only watch helplessly as the bird’s wings raise, fluttering again. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“‘Tsumu, please wait!” He screams, knees buckling. The neighbors hear him and think he’s crazy, but Kiyoomi doesn’t care. “‘Tsumu!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The name that he didn’t dare speak slipped past his lips like the tears that fell from his eyes. It’s been nearly six decades since he’s said the name, and it hurts just as much as it had then.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He’s waited for so long to see his husband. And now that he’s seen not Atsumu himself, but a bird that looks like him, he can’t even keep that. He takes another step and falls. He hits the ground with a sickening thud, and the bird takes off from the branch, flying over his head and away. Kiyoomi watches, hopeless, as his husband leaves him once more. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“<em>I’d never leave you,” Atsumu had said to him the night of their wedding. “Unless I died or somethin’</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">If only he hadn’t jinxed himself so. If only he hadn’t cursed himself, he would still be here with him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Kiyoomi is laying on the ground in his garden, a sobbing mess. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">“‘Tsumu,” he cries, the sound of decades of heartache echo through the old garden, “come back to me, please..” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">If only the world would give him another chance. Just another minute, another second to see his Atsumu again; to hold him, to feel him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The world isn’t kind to those who give up. The world isn’t kind to those who work. The world isn’t kind to those who love, those who don’t. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">The world doesn’t care. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">Sakusa Kiyoomi, age 92, is going live the rest of his pathetic life alone, swallowed up by his regrets and stomped upon by the world.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s2">He had <em>one</em> chance to see his husband again, <em>one last chance..</em> and he let it go. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tell me how it turned out!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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